Luyện nghe bài hát No Equal

(Number One
Competition is none) -->

[ VERSE 1: ]
Niggas got me steamin, bout to my lid
Fuck around, and I proceed to your back out, kid
(Boom!) Not to say I'm on a tip
But my hand stays on my gun, in case you some shit
Cause I been rhymin since way back
Straight up and the heart is how it's always been
Now niggas wanna test me
But all tiggedy-tiggedy tongue-twistin shit don't impress me
It's just a phase, and you damn well
That you'll fall off in a minute, that shit don't sell
Funny how you think you could surpass me, or me
With that bullshit style, you're fast, gee
See, I you go back where you came from
(Your mic, and my mic) on, don't play, son
See, the of payin dues is over
I'm a little fed up, and it's time that I ya
We one time, you're dead, no sequel
(Your mic, and my mic - come on yo, no equal) -->

You know number one
is none

[ 2: Psycho Les ]
The Psycho Les drops it like a lunatic
Steady back-breakin with my super dick
on the jim, sometimes I nut in em
St. fucks up their eyes, and I bend em
Down, while I'm to this nutty sound
Open up the knapsack, check out what we
H-h-horns, bass,
Beats get in the Nut Shop, we don't waste time
Yo, I'm 'cold lampin' Flavor
Floatin at the top while sick, and 'nothin can save ya'
Just like the Biz
Remember - uugh! - styles I to be, what is it?
(The shizzit) to your mama
I your girl like a comma
Due to Lambada, I I gotta
Stop, the bitch said, "(???)"
So I nutted, and I got out
(Boom!) No matter how hot you claim to be, you can't this
Nut, what's up? You get eaten up like a hostess?
'Cup', 'cake', you know my are lethal
(Your mic, and my mic - on yo, no equal)

[ VERSE 3: (Al' Tariq) ]
line I connect, my literature's perfect
Per minute, per second, and yo, you gotta
On with Fashion, cause by the way I'm things
Whoever thinks I take a loss has
Young dames, I em and Jimmy aims to knock her
Sex with this flex, best tends to lock up
Yeah, bad ass, smokin past you niggas
The I stick shit with, I love your figures
Triggers, I em with no remorse for bodies
Fash pumps the hotties, chumps pump with
Shoot em up, bang-bang! Miss rarely
Mics I up, I fucks em daily
Barely another who can test the Fash
Asses I kick in the ashes, dumpin
So don't riff, cause I swift like the Nile, son
is for plain Jane fame, I'm a wild one
Auto-matic-ly I let the
Fierce MC-i-n-g in me
Fash, sendin a blast to rap people
(Your mic, and my mic - on yo, no equal)